


Ave Maria (not without you)

by MMXIII



Series: Brooklyn Boys [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Injury, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Multiple Personalities, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Schizophrenia, Steve Angst, Steve Rogers Feels, Violence, much angst, sort of, who knows...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:22:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2169159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMXIII/pseuds/MMXIII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, Bucky does end up in a SHIELD holding cell - it just sure as hell ain't pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ave Maria (not without you)

**Author's Note:**

> So I enjoyed doing this a lot... not sure what that says about me...
> 
> Apologies for any mistakes, maybe I'll catch 'em later... ^^

‘Hey’ Steve says quietly, from just inside the doorframe of the _observation room_.

 _Not a cell_ , he reminds himself, taking in the cheerless poured concrete.

Bucky looks up.

His eyes are red, bloodshot, sunken. Bruised skin clings to the blades of his cheekbones. His right arm is cuffed to a bar running down the middle of a steel table that’s bolted to the floor in the centre of the room, wrists abraded, bloody. His left arm is resting on the table, unrestrained, right hand gripping his silver forearm, knuckles white against the metal.

There’s blood down the front of his grey t-shirt; the blood under his nose is dark and cracked. 

 He doesn’t say anything as Steve moves into the room, just watches him warily as he slides into the opposite chair.

‘Doing ok?’ Steve says tentatively, smiling so gently it makes the back of Bucky’s brain _itch._

‘I’m fine’ Bucky says hoarsely after a pause.

Steve looks like he wants to say something else but thinks better of it. It occurs to Bucky that Steve is dangerously easy to read.

 

_Killing him should have been easy-_

 

Bucky barely supresses a shudder as the whisper slides through his head.

‘I tell you something’ he says only a little shakily, ‘this ain’t five star’

Steve smiles a little wider and Bucky is almost overcome by a surge of inexplicable rage.

‘Does your head feel better?’ he says

‘Mmm’

‘Bucky?’

Steve frowns as Bucky’s eyes dart around the room, to the door over Steve’s shoulder, the strip of bullet-proof, one-way glass.

‘This is a safe place’ Steve says quietly

Bucky makes a low noise in his throat and looks back at Steve, eyes strangely unfocused. His right hand twitches against the metal of his left forearm.

‘Is it your arm? Are you-’

Bucky breathes in shakily.

‘I’m fine, Steve’

‘Are they giving you-’

‘ ** _Will you quit askin’ me how the fuck I am!_** ’ Bucky snarls, cuffs scraping against the table.

Steve swallows and leans forward, across the table.

‘Bucky, it’s important to-’

‘ ** _Look at this_ ’** Bucky screams, eyes red, gaunt, holding up his left arm, ‘I’m a fucking **_machine_**. I don’t _feel_ anything.’

‘But you remember’ Steve says calmly, ignoring the dread pooling low in his stomach as Nat’s voice murmurs in warning through his earpiece.

 

Bucky tilts his head and frowns before leaning back in his chair and smiling lazily.

‘Captain Rogers’ he drawls, clearly delighting in the way Steve’s face is draining of colour, ‘yes, I _remember_.’

 

_Natasha stands behind the one-way glass, sees Steve stiffen, holds up her hand._

 

‘You know’ Bucky continues, smirking darkly and leaning forward across the table, ‘if you take a knife-’

‘Bucky stop-’ Steve whispers

‘-stick right between the C4 and C5-’

‘Shut up’ he gasps shakily as Bucky makes a twisting action with his free hand.

 

 _Careful, Steve_ , Nat whispers

 

‘You Americans and your feelings’ Bucky says conversationally, pulling idly on the cuffs.

Steve scrubs his hand over his face, feels his heart breaking.

‘What do you want?’ Bucky says

‘Just wanted to talk’

Bucky snorts derisively, ‘how long am I in here for?’

‘They gotta do tests, Buck’ Steve says quietly

 

‘Fucking tests’

Bucky slumps forward and leans his head against left arm, elbow propped up against the table. His hair is so long it reaches half way down his forearm. Just as Steve notices uneasily that Bucky’s right arm is all cut up, he starts groaning, clawing at his head.

_All Steve wants to do is reach out and-_

_Steady_ , Steve thinks desperately

 

‘Hey, _easy_ -’

‘ _Stevie_ ’ Bucky whimpers.

 _Oh god_ , Steve thinks, _I can’t do this_

 _‘Yeah, Buck?’_ he says brokenly, dredging his brain for a memory of the feel of Bucky’s hand in his.

‘ _It hurts’_ Bucky whines

‘I’m sorry’ Steve says, voice breaking, ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t-’

‘ _Shut up’_ Bucky whimpers, shaking his head violently.

_Steve_ Nat murmurs, _team on standby_

 

‘Bucky…’

‘Stop callin’ me that’ Bucky spits, suddenly agitated again

‘What should I call you?’ Steve says, not even attempting to hide the tremor in his voice.

Bucky stares down at his hands for a moment, then back at the space past Steve’s shoulder

‘Nothing’ he says

‘I-’

 

‘ _Just go, Steve’_ Bucky says, suddenly looking Steve right in the eye with the shadow  of an expression of his face that’s so Bucky it leaves Steve reeling all over again.

‘ _Please just go’_ , he murmurs, _tired_ , tired like he hasn’t slept in years.

 

_Not without you_

_‘Bucky, I can’t’_

 

 

 

‘ _He won’t let me go, Steve’_ Bucky whispers brokenly.

 

 

Steve’s feels sick as Bucky’s right hand shakes on the table between them. Beside it, the left one is eerily static.

‘There are things we can try-’ Steve starts in earnest just as something feral curls at the edge of Bucky’s mouth.

 

As soon as Bucky’s left hand cracks down on the table, the door flies open and everything goes to hell.

Steve’s still in the middle of flinching as the room fills with at least a dozen of SHIELD’s finest armed with Fury’s idea of Christmas.

Bucky lurches forwards, wrenching Steve out of his chair and hurling him towards the back wall. Steve stumbles to the ground and raises his arms over his head, waiting for the bone crushing blow.

 

 

 

It never comes.

 

 

 

He looks up to see Bucky half-crouched in front of him, facing the intruders. Both his hands are free, left raised defensively across his body, right hand curled around the handle of serrated knife.

‘ _Where the fuck did he get that’_ somebody groans in the background as Steve cranes his head to see Natasha standing just inside the doorway, pointing a gun right at Bucky’s head.

‘ _What the hell is going on?’_ Steve hisses, ‘ _we were fine’_

‘We’re gonna talk about definitions later’ she says playfully, before focussing on Bucky.

 

‘ _Drop it’_ she says, eyeing the knife in his hand.

He doesn’t.

She edges closer and smiles as he straightens, adjusting his position between her and Steve.

‘Nat-’ Steve starts, eyeing the way Bucky’s muscles are tensing in his back.

She ignores him and says something short and clipped in Russian. Firm, _unafraid._

 

Bucky just bares his teeth.

 

Nat laughs and inclines her head.

She doesn’t lower the gun.

 

‘Well you haven’t changed’ she smirks

‘And what if I do this’ she says slyly, lowering the gun from Bucky’s head and aiming at Steve through Bucky’s stomach.

 _‘Jesus-’_ Steve starts, remembering her scar just as Bucky’s knife hits the cell floor with a dull clang. He makes a low whining sound in his throat and steps back into Steve who stands up shakily and sends the knife sliding across the floor with his foot.

Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s back reflexively.

‘Well that was interesting’ Nat drawls, lowering the gun with a flourish, ‘can we keep him?’ she jokes, smiling mischievously.

‘ _I can’t believe you just did that_ ’ Steve gapes, which seems to be what everyone else in the room is thinking too.

 

‘Move away, Steve’ she says, completely unfazed.

‘You and I are going to have a talk’ Steve snaps, rubbing his hand across Bucky’s shoulders.

‘ _Steve_. **_Move_** ’ she says, ‘or they’re going to make you’

 

_‘He’s scared’_

‘So are we. Step away’

 

‘ _Captain Rogers, please step away from the detainee’_

 

 

Steve shakes his head as the comms system bursts into life.

 

In the end he figures it’s not worth it. If they kill him then Bucky will be alone again.

Even so, it’s still almost unbearably hard to lift his hand away from Bucky’s taut shoulder blades, and as Steve moves to step away he feels a soft tug; Bucky’s hands curled into the bottom of his shirt.

Steve is vaguely aware of Nat swearing in the background.

 

 

 _‘Steve…?’_ Bucky says, eyes widening with confusion, _‘what- where…?’_

 

 

‘You gotta let go, Buck’ Steve says softly, eyes watering as he makes a gentle attempt to disengage himself.

Bucky only clings more tightly.

‘You got blood on your face, Stevie…’ he says, almost childlike, reaching up with his right hand.

 

Bucky’s voice burns in Steve’s head,

_Get your punk-ass back in bed, I ain’t done with you yet..._

 

And _god_ , all Steve wants to do is touch him _  
_

Before Bucky’s hand is fully raised he makes a surprised noise as two darts pierce the skin between his shoulder blades. Steve catches him as he slumps forwards and lowers him to the floor.

 

The crisis team are on him immediately, holding his head against the cement floor. Steve looks away as they pat him down and pull his slack hands together behind his back.

‘Seems a little heavy-handed’ he murmurs as Nat helps him up.

‘They don’t know how long it’ll keep him out for’ she says, actually looking her version of flustered, 'probably not long realistically'

As they speak, somebody pulls something sharp out of the rolled waistband of Bucky’s sweats and places it on the table. It’s a toothbrush, one end melted around a bare razor blade.

‘ _Christ, Buck’_ Steve murmurs.

 

‘He feels threatened’, Nat says off-handedly, ‘its hardly surprising behaviour’

‘No thanks to you’ Steve says gruffly.

‘That was _baby_ threatening’

Steve frowns, distracted by the sound of Bucky apparently coming round much sooner than anticipated.

 

 

‘ _Steve_ ’ he says desperately, straining to lift his head off the floor, voice raising in panic, ‘ _Steve._ **_STEVE_** ’

Steve rushes over and drops to his knees by Bucky’s head, trying hard to ignore the gun pressed firmly against the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky doesn’t seem very concerned about it though, he calms down as soon as he sees Steve.

‘Hey, it’s ok’ Steve lies, hot tears finally rolling down his face. He puts a hand on Bucky’s head and watches as Bucky’s whole body relaxes into it, despite the awkward position. It occurs to Steve with mounting horror that _Bucky is used to being handled like this._

 

‘This is…a temporary situation?’ Bucky slurs, cheek pressed against the cold cement.

‘I- uh…yes’ Steve says, attempting to assess which fragment of Bucky he’s getting now.

‘I will be operational…after?’

 _Oh god…_ ‘No, Buck, _no_ ’ Steve says hoarsely, stroking Bucky’s hair.

‘I do not understand’ Bucky murmurs as if dazed.

 

Steve takes a deep breath and puts on a brave face.

 _What are you prepared to do, Steve?_ Nat had asked him, right at the start.

_What are you prepared to do?_

‘You’re in for maintenance’ he says carefully, as the team finishing wrapping Bucky’s wrists with something that has STARK written all over it, wishing, not for the first time, that they’d both died when they were supposed to.

 

‘I am damaged’ Bucky says, not a question.

‘yes’ Steve breathes, fingers tinged red where they’ve touched Bucky’s greasy hair, ‘yeah you are’.

Bucky sighs and tilts his head forwards to rest against Steve’s thigh.

 

 

‘ _пожалуйста’_ he murmurs

_Пожалуйста, пожалуйста_

 

Over and over

 _Ave Maria,_ Bucky used to say _, come on, Stevie, breathe_

Steve turns his head to look at Nat

 

‘He’s begging you’ she says, face twisted with something like sympathy

‘What for?’ Steve says wetly.

She gives him a long look before holstering her gun and looking vaguely uncomfortable.

‘The dark’ she says cryptically, before gesturing to one of the operatives.

 

 

 

‘Come on, Steve’ she says gently as Bucky’s hauled backwards onto his knees, head hanging limp with exhaustion.

 

Steve’s not really all there as Nat tugs him up by his elbow, rests a hand on his arm, steers him away, out into the corridor. He feels torn open. Hollow.

 

‘At least now we know he probably isn’t going to hurt you’ she says not unkindly.

The pastic cup of water Steve doesn’t remember being handed cracks in his hand.

 

‘Stockholm syndrome’ he says brokenly.

 

She sighs and looks away, casting her eye at the scene through the observation window.

‘Yeah. Looks like it. Banner also reckoned there’d be some sort of split-personality thing going on’

Steve turns away from the window and against the wall, tipping his head back with a dull thud.

 

‘What was he like’ Steve says quietly, eyes closed, ‘when he was with you?’

 

‘What do you want me to say, Steve? He was very good at what he did. Minimal to no collateral damage. Maximum efficiency’

 

‘There must be something else’ he says almost inaudibly.

 

Natasha’s mind provides her with an image of a dangerous young man with a long stride and a quicksilver smile.

 

‘He was… _charismatic’_ she says with a half-smile before turning and catching his arm, ‘come on, Bruce wants to show you some scans’

 

 

 

 

 

Through the wall Bucky lies slack on a steel shelf and dreams about Brooklyn for the first time in seventy years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
